Mama's Baby, Daddy's Maybe
by Destial
Summary: "Oh, this is- Dean, I'm pregnant." There's a thud from the other end and then the line goes dead. Lisa sighs and hits redial.


**Title:** Mama's Baby, Daddy's Maybe  
**Author:** **destial**  
**Pairing:** Past Dean/Lisa  
**Rating:** PG-16  
**Warnings:** Tweaking of canon. Teen!Dean. Teener!Sam.  
**Spoilers:** Up to 3x02  
**Word Count:** 2343  
**Notes/Prompt(s):**  
**Summary:**_"Oh, this is- Dean, I'm pregnant." There's a thud from the other end and then the line goes dead. Lisa sighs and hits redial. _

* * *

**Mama's Baby, Daddy's Maybe**

The phone rings three times before he picks up, grunting out, "Hello?" in such a way that she already knows it's him.

"Dean?" she asks, anyway.

"Yeah," he grunts again. He sounds distracted and Lisa can hear someone else in the background, speaking in an annoyed voice.

"Oh thank god," she can't help saying.

The noise stops on Dean's end and it takes a few seconds before he says, "Who's this?"

"Um, ah, Lisa," she manages and she'll be so pissed if he doesn't remember her. It was mortifying enough tracking down that other guy and then having the blood test come up negative. If Dean doesn't remember her, she might have to kill him, then herself, just to save face. "Lisa Br-"

"Braeden," Dean finishes for her in a smug tone. She can just imagine how he looks right now; a lazy smirk, confident slouch, not detracting from his looks in the least. Despite herself, Lisa's smiling, because they had fun together, her and Dean. "What 'cha calling for, Leese? I'm not in Indiana anymore."

That punk thinks this is a booty call. Which, okay, she might have given that impression. _ Two strange guys in a week, Leese,_ she thinks, humorlessly.

"No, no, that's not why I'm calling," she says, and maybe she said it too fast because the silence suddenly feels put off, somehow. "Oh, this is- Dean, I'm pregnant."

There's a thud from the other end and then the line goes dead.

Lisa sighs and hits redial. 

* * *

As it turns out, Dean hadn't hung up on her on purpose, which is a good sign. They ended up playing that awkward game of phone tag for close to five minutes, each getting a busy signal because they were calling each other at the same time. Finally, Lisa stops trying and picks up on the first ring only to hear, "Oh, god, I'm sorry, sorry. Lisa? You're what?"

"Pregnant, Dean," she says, trying to calm the fluttering in her stomach. The other guy said he wanted nothing to do with it, regardless of the result, and looked at her with cold satisfaction when it was negative. Not her best life choice. Dean hadn't been some drunken bar fling, though. He'd been charming in this really earnest way, picking her out of the group after a half hour of chatting and making her laugh. She really hoped he reacted better. "And, unless the doc gave me the wrong timeframe, I'm pretty sure it's yours."

"What do I do?" Dean asks in such a small voice, Lisa almost thinks she imagines it.

"I don-"

"I need to talk to someone," Dean says, cutting her off. "I just- Lisa, I will call you back, I _will_, but I need to talk to someone."

"Okay, Dean," she says. It's not what she'd been aiming for, but it _is_ more than she'd hoped. 

* * *

Dean stares at the phone for a minute after hanging up. Just stares at it, as if it'll tell him what to do, and Sam's still bitching in the background.

Dean glances at his brother and he realizes it's not bitching any more. Sam's staring at him, half annoyed, half concerned, in the way only a fifteen year old can combine.

"What's wrong?" he says slowly and clearly and Dean realizes he must have been repeating that for a while for Sammy to pull out the "talking to the mentally shaken victim" voice.

Dean ignores him, twisting around on the bed to look at dad, who'd been going through inventory at the table when Dean's cell rang.

"What's wrong, Dean?" he asks and Dean must have one hell of an expression, or made a hell of a scene, because John Winchester actually looks concerned and no one's bleeding. Behind him, Sam huffs.

"Dad," Dean says, ignoring Sam. His voice wavers so he clears his throat and tries again. "Dad, you, um, you remember a couple months ago when you and Sammy were in Orlando?"

"Yea," dad replies. "I seem to recall something about five states, five days."

"About that… I, uh, I kind of exaggerated."

Dad's face gains that edge of steal that makes him pretty terrifying to fuck with.

"You tell me what the hell is going on, boy."

Dean doesn't flinch, because his dad will understand even if he's going to be pissed. He chews on his lip for a second, though, and glances at Sammy, who's staring at him with big, round eyes. Dean kind of wishes he'd asked to talk to dad outside.

Turning back, he swallows and says, "There was a girl, she, uh, we spent the weekend together. She- she's pregnant, dad."

Sam makes a choked noise behind him and Dean can't help but agree. 

* * *

Dad's words are simple, sweet, and to the point.

"You're going to Indiana first thing in the morning and you're going to find this girl and go get yourself tested, one of those- those-"

"DNA tests," Sam said, and it was a testament to the situation how he didn't make it sound snide, as if their dad should know.

"You're going to get your DNA tested and make sure this girl is right. Then we'll figure things out."

So Dean is back in Cicero, more nervous than he's ever been, standing outside of Lisa Braeden's building. The Impala is cold against his back but he can't quite pull himself away from her. He has probably been standing there close to a half hour when he hears a startled, "Dean!" from his left.

Lisa's standing there, wearing a thin wool coat, fitted pink fabric hardly obscuring her figure. She has a knitted scarf and hat, her cheeks are flushed, and Dean stops that train of thought that keeps asking, _Why'd I even hook up with her?_ because he remembers why. Lisa has all of the sex appeal you'd expect from a hot yoga instructor and she was a wild cat between the sheets, but before that, she was cute. She had smiled and laughed and blushed in a completely unselfconscious way. When he'd said something the wrong side of appropriate and she met his eye, gaze steady, as she colored, he'd understood it as a purely physical reaction that she'd not yet grown out of, so freshly a woman, and he'd been instantly enchanted.

He must have zoned out in his memories because then Lisa is standing in front of him.

"Hey Lisa," he says, trying for a grin but it really feels more like a grimace.

"I thought you weren't in Indiana," she says. She's giving him a calculating look, maybe trying to find the lie.

"I wasn't," Dean says, because he at least knows that. "Louisiana. I, uh, been driving since sun up."

"I wasn't expecting you to be here," Lisa replies. "You… well, I wasn't sure, you know? You didn't call."

"Call? Oh, shit, Lisa." Because he remembers promising to call but he hadn't thought of it. Last night had been so tense after he'd told his dad and Sam, God bless him, had stuffed down his attitude and spent the rest of the night trying to distract Dean. He'd even tried to challenge him to a sparring match, but Dean had been far too distracted. The last thing his ego needed was being pinned by his pipsqueak of a brother. "Sorry. But, I'm here now?"

He tried again for a smile and he thinks he pulled it off because Lisa smiles back, small and hesitant, but real.

"Thanks for coming, Dean," she says and reaches forward, resting one of those little hands against his – unshaved, God, he really rushed it this morning, didn't he? – cheek. "Not that I'm not glad to see you, but why are you here?"

"My dad-" He pauses. Can't quite hold her gaze, so he looks down at the pavement as he scuffs his boot against it. "I don't think you're lying. But, there's a test…"

Dean trails off and he feels like a dick, even though it's a perfectly legitimate request. Doesn't make it feel any less like he's accusing Lisa of being a conniving bitch, tricking poor saps into something with a fake pregnancy.

"Yea," Lisa says and she doesn't sound offended so she must get that Dean's, in fact, _not_ accusing her of anything. "Yea, I was going to talk to you about that when you called. I already know the process and don't worry, of course, I'll pay for-"

"What? No." Dean's reaction is instant and his surprise gives him the courage to look up. "No, I'll pay for it, don't even think about it."

"Dean, you already drove all the way here. It's okay, really, I was expecting to."

Dean frowns; he's not sure what she meant by that, but he isn't letting this go. He steps forward, enveloping her small, delicate hands in his own, large, calloused hands.

"Lisa, you're pregnant," he says and it feels real right then, right in that moment. He takes a second to recover and pushes on. "You're pregnant and you're going to need all the money you've got 'cause babies are expensive. I'll pay for the blood test and we'll figure out the rest later."

Those last few words are his dad's and they feel wrong, but he doesn't let that show.

Lisa's smile tightens and her eyes go glassy, which kind of freaks Dean out. He hates it when girls cry, never really knows what to do with them.

"What?" he asks. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Lisa shakes her head and when she glances at him out of the corner of her eye, there's only affection in her gaze. "Dean Winchester, you are… a very surprising man."

Dean's not sure how to take that either. 

* * *

They go to the clinic together and Dean gets his blood drawn by a nurse that looks as run down as the patients in the waiting room. Afterwards, Dean takes Lisa back to her loft but when they get there, neither is sure of what to say.

"So, I'll call you?" Lisa finally breaks the silence with. "Well, um, I guess they'll call you, won't they?"

"Yea," Dean says. He's never felt more awkward in his life.

Lisa is out of the car and has the door half shut when she suddenly leans back in, catching and holding Dean's eye.

"Thank you," she says. "Dean, thank you. For coming."

Dean smiles at her, but it doesn't feel right.

"No problem, Lisa." 

* * *

Dean spends a month thinking about not thinking about it, dad and Sammy giving him space and never letting him have a second alone, respectively. He didn't really care, one way or another, because he basically spent the time in a fugue state. If anyone were to ask him later what he did in that month, what they hunted – because they did hunt – Dean wouldn't have been able to answer.

Finally, after the longest month of Dean's life, his cell rings and it isn't dad.

The phone call is brief. The tech calling – or maybe it was a secretary? Did techs do calls? – was very to the point and before Dean knows it, he's hearing dial tone.

Dean hangs up the phone but has no idea what to do with it now. He stares at it, feeling, insanely, betrayed by the handful of plastic and metal. He's almost overcome by the urge to slam it against something; to keep hitting it and hitting it until it's as broken as him.

Sam's voice snaps him out of it.

"What?" Dean asks, because he's pretty sure he didn't understand that.

Sammy speaks again, slower this time, and maybe a bit louder. Dean would be annoyed, insulted even, but it was kind of helping.

"That was the clinic, right? What did they say?"

"Oh," Dean says, glancing back at the phone. He sets it on the in table between the beds. "Turns out the kid's mine."

The next thing Dean knows, he's kneeling on the floor, his knees are stinging, and it feels like he can't breathe. Sam is holding him by the shoulders and saying something. His name. Sam is saying, "Dean, Dean. You have to calm down. Dean. It's okay."

"It's not okay!" Dean shouts, jerking back. He doesn't know how he can feel so suffocated but still talk. "Fuck!" He takes a few slow breaths. "What the hell am I going to do?"

"You're going to do the right thing," Sam says.

"I can't be a father!"

Sam gives him that tight lipped, "told you so" smile of his and Dean realizes what just happened.

"Sam," Dean warns.

"Dean," Sam mimics. "Yea, you can. And you're going to be. You're going to do what you know is right and give up hunting and help Lisa raise that kid."

"I can't just abandon my family, Sam!" Dean knows he's losing it a little here. He keeps yelling at Sam and he's never really done that before. Dad yells, at Sam and Dean both. And Sam'll yell back. But Dean has never vented his frustration on his family.

"You aren't abandoning your family, Dean," Sam says and he's far too calm about this. "You have a new family now, however unintentionally, and you're going to take care of them because me and dad can take care of ourselves."

Dean deflates a little at that because Sam has a point.

"I don't know the first thing about raising a kid, Sammy."

"Yea, Dean, you do." Sam is smiling now, a real smile, as if he and Dean are sharing some secret joke. "You raised me, Dean, and you were mostly a kid yourself."

Dean doesn't respond immediately. He drags a hand over his mouth, staring just over Sam's shoulder at the wall.

"Oh god," he says, eyes wide. "Sammy, I'm going to be a dad."

"Yea, Dean, I know."

Dean laughs, a weak, half crazed laugh, and Sam just grins.


End file.
